


My Saviour

by julemmaes



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Blackdale, F/M, Fairondale - Freeform, Friendship, High School, Love, Modern AU, Modern School AU, Teachers, artist matthew, friends - Freeform, gracexjames, james & grace, relationship, thomas lightwood and matthew fairchild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23650999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julemmaes/pseuds/julemmaes
Summary: Matthew's school day is off to a bad start. Always lost in his world of lines and colours, he finds it hard to concentrate on anything other than his drawings. When the teachers decide to gang up on him, his only salvation will be a girl with an amazing mind.
Relationships: Jesse Blackthorn & Lucie Herondale, Jesse Blackthorn/Lucie Herondale, Matthew Fairchild & Lucie Herondale, Matthew Fairchild/Lucie Herondale
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	My Saviour

**Author's Note:**

> James, Jesse, Grace and Lucie aren't part of the original TLH gang and they're not Anna, Thomas or Christopher's cousins + they have no idea who the others are. So the main friendship is Thomas/Matthew and James is only mentioned.

“Mr Fairchild? Perhaps you would like to be escorted to Miss Fray’s classroom? Perhaps you would draw in a more comfortable position.”

  
Matthew’s head snapped at the name of his favorite art teacher. He sat up straight, realizing that the gaze of twenty boys was fixed on him. He smiled at the teacher, putting the pencil on the desk and shrugging, “No Miss Wrayburn. I was listening, I am so interested in your lectures that sometimes I get lost in historical stories and I like to illustrate them.” He ended with a sly smile, resting his chin on his hands. Miss Wrayburn, noted for her severity as a history teacher, smiled in return, placing her book on the chair and crossing her arms on the chest.

  
“So if I asked you what happened between June 19th and 20th, 1944 in the Pacific you would be able to answer me?” She asked her and smiled at him with the same sarcasm. Matthew began to sweat: he had already brought home two very bad grades that week, if he brought a third one, his mother Charlotte would surely have sent him to a private school, and it would have been a suicide. _Think Math, think. 1944, World War II, Japan, Roosevelt_. His thoughts were interrupted by the small voice of the girl beside him, “ _The Battle of the Philippine Sea_ ”, whispered with one hand in front of her mouth to avoid being seen by the teacher. Matthew stilled on the chair, before coughing and repeating what his classmate had just suggested. Wrayburn seemed surprised and tilting her head asked him one more question, but he had completely lost the thread.

  
The girl who sat next to him was beautiful. A stunning beauty. The locks of dark brown hair fell on her shoulders like waves and surrounded her delicate white face. The eyes of a pale blue were moving frantically, looking first at him and then at the blackboard, where the teacher was writing three important events of the war between the USA and Japan. He collected himself, looking again at the girl, before the teacher called him one more time, asking him to put into chronological order the battles she just wrote down. He answered quietly with the help of the girl and when Wrayburn considered it sufficient enough not to put a bad grade, going back to explain to the class, Matthew could finally bask in the beauty sitting next to him.

Her writing was so delicate and at the same time… ferocious. Yes, he was going to describe it as ferocious, as if writing were something that she did very often and gladly. Plus, she seemed to be writing down everything the teacher said, without missing a single thing. He wanted to introduce himself, but he didn’t know how to do it without disturbing her. Because she looked like the kind of student who would bite your head off if she lost the theacher’s train of thoughts.

  
He looked around again for the answer, as if looking at the door or at thewindow, the idea would appear in front of him. And that’s exaclty what happened.

  
He took a blank piece of paper and started scribbling something. The design took shape and a golden retriver appeared (which tremendously reminded Matthew of Mr Oscar Wilde, his dog) with a blonde hair like his and a sparkling green leash. Satisfied with his work he made a small cartoon over the dog that said “ _Pleased to meet you, I’m Matthew, but you can call me Math. Thanks for the rescue, could you help me with one last question I absolutely need to know the answer to_ _cause my school career could be at risk if I don’t_?” 

  
He moved slightly away from the desk to see the final result and nodded smugly, bent the paper in two, before sliding it slowly towards the girl’s desk. As expected, she did not pay him much attention before the ringing of the bell and even after, as she collected all her things and put them quickly in the bag, she didn’t notice the drawing, putting it together with the rest of her notes. Matthew was about to walk to her and ask her what her name was in person, but as soon as he got up, he found himself in front of Thomas Lightwood, his lifelong best friend and the kindest person he knew. He passed him without ceremony to see if the girl was always in the class, but by now the only ones left were the two of them and the students of the next class were already entering and sitting at the desks. 

  
He snorted taking his stuff and starting to walk next to Tom, headed to the science lab. An nudge from his friend made him turn his head in his direction, eyebrow raised as a question.

“Don’t make that face, you haven’t lost her. She’s with us in science. Has been for years actually.” he said putting his arm around him. Thomas was almost twenty centimeters taller than him, he was close to two meters, and he was huge. Last summer, he had put on more muscle mass than he liked to admit, and it had gotten even bigger. 

  
“I wasn’t thinking I _lost_ her, I just wanted to know her name. She saved my ass earlier, I could always buy her a coffee, you know, to thank her.” He reached his locker, trying to end the conversation, but Thomas didn’t feel the same way, “Sure, and Kit doesn’t blow up his house at least three times a week”; he giggled at his own joke before bringing a hand to scratch his neck. “Although, I have to be honest, I’d like to see you on a date with Jesse Blackthorn’s girlfriend.” 

  
Matthew snorted posing the never-used book of history, and taking the unharmed one of science. Obviously she had a boyfriend. And of course it had to be Jesse fucking Blackthorn. Turning to Tom with a whipped dog face, he asked him if he was joking. 

  
“Oh no, not at all. They’ve been together for a while, but like, just two years, and the fact that you don’t know they’re together is worrying. The whole school knows this.” he answered him as soon as they arrived at Thomas' locker, where the same ritual was repeated for the billionth time.

  
“I have to remind you that I don’t really give a shit about the people who are in this building or do I have to connect the dots for you?” Math asked leaning against the wall again. He was dead tired and they were only at the second hour. Thinking he was gonna stay in that place till four o'clock got his stomach twisted.

  
Thomas laughed and the conversation ended there. They saw Christopher outside the chemistry labs, tinkering with giant tomes and test tubes, while Mr Fairchild, Matthew’s father, tried to help him as much as he could without dropping anything. They didn’t have the time to get close enough that from inside the classroom someone was shouting and they both rushed to rescue anyone who had made two wrong substances react.

Tom and Math entered the biology classroom, taking place in the second-to-last row. A few minutes later the girl of history class entered. She sat down at the desk behind Matthew’s, who was about to turn around when the teacher came in, blocking his every initiative. The lesson began immediately and the boy could hear her pen running fast on the paper. He took out the necessary to draw and got lost in his world again and again and again. Until Tom hit him on the arm and he turned to his friend, asking what the hell he wanted.

  
“ _What the hell do I want_? Well, Mr Fairchild, if you answer this question correctly, I might consider not failing you at my subject.” He couldn’t believe it. _Not again._ Matthew turned slowly to the teacher, reducing his lips to a thin line, waiting for the question that would end his life.

  
“If the function of ribosomes is selectively blocked in a cell, what do you immediately stop, Mr Fairchild?” professor Fade asked severely. He was ready to say that no one in that cabbage class would know the answer, but the voice of his guardian angel was as clear as light behind his back, “ _T_ _he translation._ ”

  
“The translation, professor.” 

  
“Translation of what, Matthew?”

  
“ _Of RNA_ ,”; she told him, once more.

  
“Of RNA, sir.” he nodded, seemed convinced of what he was saying, and sighed with relief when the lesson resumed undisturbed. He turned slightly, smiling at the girl from above his shoulder. She was staring at him and in her left hand, reaching out to him, she was holding a folded piece of paper. He took it without the teacher noticing and opened it discreetly. In the corner of his eye he saw Thomas trying to spy on what was written on the paper. 

  
When he saw it was his drawing, his chest swelled. Next to her dog there now was a little blue bird, with her wings folded on her hips, so she looked angry. It wasn’t as pretty as his dog, and it looked like it had been drawn in a hurry, but it was very cute, and above it the inscription “ _What_ _, do I have to save you_ _again_ _?_ ” was clear in her perfect handwriting.

He had to refrain from laughing, because the drawing was most likely done right after the history lesson, so this would be the third time that Matthew needed to be saved. 

  
He started drawing again, this time making a kitten trying to catch the bird from below, with the phrase “ _Don’t worry_ , _this is quite simple. What’s your name?”_ He could have easily asked Thomas and he would have answered him in less than a second. When he put his arm back and felt that the paper was being taken from his hand, he smiled, beginning to mind his own business once again. Only when the bell announcing the end of classes rang did he realize that the only color he had used during that time was blue.

  
“My name is Lucie, Lucie Herondale. But you can call me Luce.” He saw a thin, pale hand appear in his field of vision, and he almost jumped out of the chair. He raised his head and shook her hand. He smiled in the only way he knew, with his dazzling charm, and when he spoke, the voice came out like a shrill sound, “I am-” he coughed several times, while Lucie giggled and there, behind her, was Thomas, eyes wide open, holding a hand to his mouth to avoid bursting into laughter, “You’re Matthew, yeah, I already know.” she smiled at him.

  
“Yeah, yeah. The dog. It’s mine. I thought it’d be cute and wanted to thank you for all these rescues. My mother would kill me if she found out that I didn’t study anything and I-” he was interrupted by the voice of someone who had just appeared on the classroom door. A boy as tall as him, with black hair and the eyes of a spooky, pungent green, was extending his hand toward her, while with the other one he was balancing himself on the door, “ _Lulu_ let’s go, Jamie and Grace are waiting for us in front of your locker.” He looked away from her to Matthew and vice versa a couple of times before smiling shily at the two boys.  
Lucie turned to Jesse Blackthorn and with a movement of her head made him understand that she would be there in a minute. 

  
“Of course, there’s no problem. I’d rather help people than see them fail.” she said turning to Math again, “See you in class, I guess.” She smiled at him one last time and, putting her hands in her pockets, went out, following her boyfriend into the crowded hallway. 

  
Matthew remained with his waving hand raised in the air until Thomas' laugh awoke him from his trance. He looked at his friend, pushed him sideways to pass him, and unceremoniously he told him to fuck off.

“C’mon Math. It was ridiculous. Pathetic. Humiliating. I can laugh sometimes, right?”

  
“Why? With me you don’t laugh enough?” Christopher asked by appearing at Thomas' side out of nowhere.

  
“Jesus Kit, where did you come from?” said Thomas bringing a hand to his chest.

  
“From the chemistry lab, of course. By the way, Math,” he said addressing the blond one, “your father wanted to know if you’d eat at home tonight and I told him we were going out. Cause we do go, right? It is Friday and tomorrow mom and dad won’t be here, so I can go back anytime I want tonight.” Thomas was already nodding, starting to think in his little head the worst ways to risk their lives. Matthew was trying so hard not to think about Lucie Herondale, and that kept him from not being able to do so. 

  
What an idiot he was. _And that sound? Where did that voice come from?_ He was sure she was telling her perfect boyfriend right now how this dumb classmate who didn’t know shit had trouble controlling his fucking vocal cords. 

  
“What’s going on in that empty head of yours?” Anna Lightwood. Thomas' cousin and Christopher’s sister, but also Matthew’s faithful friend, was dressed exactly like him that day, which made her pout, “Classy. But I have to say that they look better on me.” she smiled widely, taking him and Kit arm in arm, and heading for the next lesson. 

  
_Luckily_ , Matthew thought, _we all have art together._ That was his hour of leisure, even though he normally did nothing different, but at least he would get compliments from Miss Fray, or how he called her, Clary. He had met his art teacher outside the school, in fact it was he who had told her that their old teacher would retire and that there was a vacant chair. They had become close friends during a painting course and when he met her at school he had felt nothing but immense happiness. 

  
“Our Matthew impressed some cute girl today.” said Thomas in the tone of someone who’s been around. Anna suddenly stopped in the hallway, staring at him with gaping mouth.

  
“And let’s hear, who would be the lucky one?” she asked, again walking. Christopher seemed interested, too, but not as much as his sister, who looked like a child on Christmas morning.

  
“Nobody.” answered Matthew at the same time as Thomas said, “Lucie Herondale.”

  
“Are you kidding? But you know he’s with Blackthorn, right?” She asked him in astonishment, as she glared him, as if he were the only fool in the world who did not know which couples were in this stupid school.

  
“Yes I know, and I didn’t impress, we just talked because she saved my ass a couple of times.”

They continued to speak even after entering the art lab and even during the lesson. Matthew was surprised when he noticed that the teacher pretended not to listen when she passed by them, but that she tended her ear to eavesdrop better.

  
The next lesson would be that of literature, without any of his friends, and thinking of having to spend a whole hour without Tom or Kit made him feel sick, but maybe today he could do it. A rest hour after all the comments and jokes Thomas made would have done him good.

  
He sat at the usual place and with a pleasant surprise noticed that on the other side of the class was Lucie. She was chatting with a redheaded girl who had little dark skin. Matthew remembered she was one of the newcomers and that she had a particular name, Carla… Carlotta perhaps. Consuela. 

  
He began to stare at his hands with a thoughtful glare. 

How was it possible that in all those years he had never noticed her? How was it possible that they had so many classes in common that they never spoke? He looked up once more to look at her and noticed that she had moved into the desk next to his and her friend sat right in front of her. He greeted them both with a broad smile.

  
“Hey Math, this is Cordelia. She’s from Paris. Cordelia, this is Matthew.” He smiled at him and Matthew’s world was once again a little happier.

  
“I’m actually from London, but I’ve been living in Paris for the last five years.” Cordelia explained before paying attention to Miss Loss, who had just entered. A strange fellow, Catarina Loss. 

She had the skin of a cadaveric white, and the hair was of a sky blue so bright that sometimes Matthew would get lost staring at them by how much it was intense.

He heard a comment from Lucie about his memory-loss episodes and laughed silently, starting to scribble on the desk.

  
Twenty minutes passed before the obvious happened, “Fairchild, who wrote _Songs of Innocence and Experience_?” _They can’t be serious_ , Matthew looked briefly in Lucie’s direction and she giggled before miming with her lips _Wlliam Blake_. Matthew almost laughed when he began to speak, but after that the teacher immediately left him alone. Cordelia also seemed amused, because she looked at him from above her shoulder smiling and returning to the reading shortly after. 

  
He stared at Lucie, and thought that if anyone saw him they would think he was a pervert, because she turned to him, probably due to the intensity with which he was looking at her, and smiled at him.

  
Perhaps, to surprise her, he would start studying, so the responsibility would not fall on her alone, but in that moment, Matthew thought, it was enough to have his saviour by his side and everything would be fine.


End file.
